The Rise of Fallen Claws
by Rainheart Warrior
Summary: A story based on a fanmade roleplay group on a website called WarriorCatsPlay. How does a dark society rise from a pool of blood? How does it separate from another, caused only by the reckless plans of a single BloodClan warrior? Damien has been suffering within the depths of BloodClan since he was born - what will he do when he escapes? Find out! Rated T for some mild violence.


**Hello, everybody!**

 **Apologies for lack of updates. I'm really itching to work on my FNaF FanFiction, "The Story of Us", but ever since the fourth game was announced, I've been holding back. I want my story to follow the Five Nights at Freddy's timeline as closely as possible, so I'll be waiting until FNaF 4's release!**

" **Twisted" is being put on hold. Trust me, I've been trying and trying time and time again to regain motivation to work on "Twisted", and I promise that I** _ **will**_ **get back to it. But for now, here's a little something I thought up, literally just a couple hours ago.**

 **If you read my saga of "Twisted", then you are most likely familiar with my little rants regarding a website called WarriorCatsPlay. For those who don't understand my wavering obsession, WarriorCatsPlay is a Warrior Cats roleplay website created by the ingenious Snowstar back in 2011. You can roleplay as cats from ThunderClan, WindClan, RiverClan, ShadowClan, SkyClan, BloodClan, and a recently added Fallen Stars rogue group. You will be able to find a link to the website on my profile.**

 **Here's the thing, though.**

 **In order to make sure that BloodClan didn't get bored and constantly raid the other five (now six) Clans, Snowstar created an organized rogue group which mimicked BloodClan closely called Fallen Claws.**

 **Fallen Claws is indeed a fanmade street gang which is basically identical to BloodClan. But it's only purpose to exist was so that the BloodClan roleplayers would have neighbors to interact with. Snowstar, who left the site due to college studies and turned over ownership of it to Briarpelt in 2014, never gave a backstory to the intriguing, bloodthirsty Clan. It's been a place of many exciting roleplay events, and multiple interactions with its rather infamous border partner, BloodClan. So what is the story of the dark and mysterious Fallen Claws?**

 **Here, I have put together a tale of Fallen Claws's past. Enjoy as we delve deep into the bloodstained history of the rogue society to which there is no escape.**

* * *

Damien coughed as he was tossed like a rag doll onto the cold, hard pavement. He looked up in desperation to his leader as blood dripped from his lip down his chin. Two slender toms approached him, silent and limber as snakes, while the entire Clan watched from along the brick walls of the surrounding buildings.

"Jax!" Damien coughed, blood spattering the alleyway's ground as he did so. "I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd get so upset!"

"You give away our location to a couple of stray rogues without my permission?" He flicked his tail as he stood upon a tin trashcan. The brown tabby dictator leapt from the trashcan to the dumpster. His guards lined the base of it, snarling warnings to the surrounding Clan cats. "You thought I wouldn't _care_?" He gave a thrust of his left paw.

Immediately at the sight of the movement, the left assassin was upon Damien, tearing at his belly fur. Damien wailed in pain as the second assassin circled the pair, waiting for any order from Jax.

"Casper," Jax called out to the cat who had Damien in a chokehold. He was pure white with a single black paw and a black stripe up his face from his nose. "Fall back."

Almost instantly, Casper leapt off of Damien, leaving him in a writhing mass of black fur. Covered in heavily bleeding scars, he curled into a ball. His small tail tucked between his legs as he gave a moan of anguish.

"This is what happens when you break a rule," Jax's voice rumbled to him. "BloodClan does not have room for traitors. You're loyal to us, or to the outsiders whom you've been associating with. You need to choose."

Cats from along the sidelines lowered their heads in fear. More of Jax's guards walked up and down the long line of loosely gathered rogues who'd been thrown together by Scourge all those seasons before. One snapped at a curious young cat who tried to step forward. "Stay back, by orders of Jax. There's enough fur being shredded at the moment, we don't have time to spill your blood as well."

The tiny tom squeaked in fear, jumping back to his brothers. "I'm sorry, sir! I was curious!" he responded as bravely as possible.

"Don't get cocky, kid," the guard snarled, and continued walking along the lines. This happened more than once with the other guards as well. By order of Jax, no cat was to try and help anyone being beaten by the assassins. Beatings were "necessary and affirming" as the tyrant liked to reiterate often. It was the job of the assassins to draw them out. Guards assigned by the leader were chosen to keep the Clan in line and the leader in power. There were multiple other positions in the Clan put together by Jax, these were only a few.

Damien didn't attempt to fight back. The two assassins, Casper and Jack, were amazing at their job. He'd watched them kill cats within moments of the order. This beating was already bad as it was – he didn't want to risk death.

The assassins continued circling him as they waited for Jax to speak. More assassins waited by the dumpster where Jax perched. "So," he said casually, inspecting his studded claws. All the upper ranking cats received studded collars and claws for maximum damage. "Damien. What exactly were you seeking to accomplish with this gang of rogues you brought in our section of Twolegplace?"

Damien didn't want to talk – he was in far too much pain. Claw marks scored deep through his shiny black fur, and blood dribbled from his mouth. His nose bled as well, and one eye was swelled shut. His ear had a fresh nick in it, and his pelt was missing patches of fur. A trickling pool of blood started forming around him. "I wanted them to join," he choked out. "I thought you'd approve."

Jax laughed rudely. "Only _I_ am allowed to invite cats into BloodClan. You are nothing but a filthy warrior. You only surpass the servants in terms of ranking – why would you even consider putting that type of authorization to use?"

"Because they seemed helpful," he barely managed to wheeze out. "They were willing to serve, sir."

"How do you know they weren't spies?" He flicked his tail with a growl, sending Jack barreling towards Damien.

Both assassins were silent throughout. They were not allowed to speak during beatings in order to enhance the sensation of fear in their victim. They were of the one of the highest rankings in the Clan, but still obeyed the laws of Jax. Casper gave Damien a cold glare with his two yellow eyes. They almost did all the talking that was needed: _I will destroy you at any given moment_.

Jack started tearing at Damien's fur again. The helpless warrior could only wail in pain, though he knew no help would come. Jax watched with heated green eyes and a white grin. His guards gave booming, hefty laughs that rumbled through the dark alleyway. Whilst they hurried about to serve the leader, the servants were as fearful and quiet as the onlookers, which consisted of warriors, learners, kits and queens.

The assassins were simple stones of lifelessness. They had been responsible for so many deaths that they felt virtually nothing. Emotion was practically a foreign word to Jax's group of five assassins.

Jax held up his tail. "That's enough," he called out. The two toms fell back swiftly. "Thank you Casper, Jack. It was a pleasure watching such a thrilling performance upon this little delinquent."

NeitherJack nor Casper acknowledged Jax's words. They only sat, tails curled neatly over their paws, as Damien bled before them.

Jax jumped down from his perch. He walked across the pavement, and his head warrior, Noire, joined him. Noire was just below Jax in the ranks, and just above the assassins. He was Jax's most powerful guard, his second-in-command, his future successor. Noire was a simple brown cat with black paws and long, trailing fur. His amber eyes portrayed too many thoughts to count, and were almost as manipulative as Jax's. One eye had a scar over it, but had not penetrated the eye, so he could still see. Jax was a brown tabby with green eyes and a scar on his flank. He, like the assassins, had killed many a cat in his time. His studded collar glistened as the moonlight caught it perfectly. Noire was in the shadows beside Jax, so his did not shine so brightly. The assassins and guards also wore collars, decorated with the teeth of their fallen victims, as well as dogs and other prey.

The leader lowered his head, so his nose was only an inch away from Damien's. He gave a laugh. "Silly warrior," he mused, then laughed louder. "Silly, foolish warrior!" He batted him on the head, eliciting a groan from the pained black tom. "This was a warning." He started circling the bleeding heap of fur. "Another mistake like this, and you'll be missing an eye. Or banished. Or even dead, if you cross too far over the line."

Damien coughed up more blood, nodding weakly. "Yes, sir," he wheezed. "I'll obey, sir." His head slumped on the ground.

"Good." Jax walked away, Noire following closely. "Assassins, to your positions, please. Your work is complete."

Casper and Jack stood, slipping over to their three waiting companions, much like snakes. All five assassins vanished over a heap of garbage when Jax jumped back up onto his dumpster. Atop the smelly trash bin, he had placed a cardboard box on its side. This way, he was able to be above the rest of the Clan, but still comfy inside a den. Noire was the only one allowed to join him. The guards and assassins slept in similar cardboard boxes around the base of the dumpster. Warriors, learners, kits, queens and elders were forced to find shelter wherever possible. But nobody was allowed to leave, as guards were posted everywhere, every moment of the day.

Jax looked back over his shoulder to announce to the Clan. "Leave him. It's part of the imbecile's punishment." With that, he disappeared into his box. The rest of the Clan rushed away for fear of being punished for even the smallest of mistakes.

Damien lay there. He couldn't slip up again, or he'd wind up dead. He couldn't try and escape; he'd be tracked down and killed anyways. He would need to be extra careful.

BloodClan was no place for mistakes.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading the first chapter of my story! If anybody thinks I'm tying up my schedule with too many stories to write, well, newsflash! "Twisted" is kind of the only story I've not really put on hiatus at the moment. If you want to see the statuses of all my stories, I put up a key on my profile.**

 **Thank you to all the WCP members out there who were excited to read this! I've always wanted a backstory to the mysterious Fallen Claws, so why not whip one up myself? The idea of Fallen Claws belongs solely to Snowstar of WCP, not me! I've only come up with this FanFiction regarding it. I'm not even active on the Fallen Claws page – I'm simply interested in writing about it! Though I plan to become active!**

 **Please, go check out WarriorCatsPlay! It's a great roleplay site if you're looking for a simple chatbox roleplay. There's a link on my profile. I'll soon be putting up drawings of a few of the characters from this chapter on my DeviantArt page, FlamingHeadphones!**

 **Have a good one, and look forward to the next chapter!**


End file.
